


Galaxial Memory

by RKS



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, F/M, Mecha, Non-Linear Narrative, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-01 09:06:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10918686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RKS/pseuds/RKS
Summary: [ NO SPOILERS, AU ]If paradise doesn't exist, if the world has left nothing for you, if you can't find that reason to keep on going... go and create that reason. Create that world worth living in. Create the heavens.Tenko knows it's easier than it sounds.Or --- Tenko gets roped into a mission to rebuild humanity, which somehow equates to gigantic robot fights. She falls in love somewhere in there.





	1. Get the Metal Rolling [ 1 ]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann AU. Absolutely no knowledge of TTGL is necessary; in fact, having no knowledge will make the experience all the better for you.
> 
> This story is told entirely from Tenko's perspective, which means that she will sometimes give facts that are blatantly or slightly incorrect; after all, nobody's perfect, Tenko especially. There are a few of those inconsistencies in this chapter alone, one _extremely_ noticeable. This (and everything else) will be explained later, and is not an error. As you will come to notice, I am a major fan of Chekholv's Guns.
> 
> Although this story is labeled as a romance, it ended up sharing its fiddle with the rest of the cast, so don't come in here purely expecting robot fights or purely expecting shipping. The main focus of the story is somehow similar to the majority of V3 fics; the cast getting into wacky situations and interacting with each other in wacky ways, with the overarching plot of TTGL that I will alter to subvert both TTGL fans and non fans expectations. Of course, the setting is widely different from the norm, as is the central ship, so I hope I can offer a unique and crazy experience for everyone.

Stakeouts suck.

As divided as Hole 053’s Surface Militia was, that was perhaps the singular thing we all agreed on. Whenever Miu relayed her radar readings to us, or whenever Angie’s god was feeling particularly unpleasant, a handful of us poor soldiers were grouped together and thrown to a corner on the brink of civilization. It was like a weekend camping trip, except full of horny teenagers armed with lethal weapons and poor supervision. To make matters even better, we had to remain vigilant for any robotic monstrosities that might be trying to flank us; for weeks at a time, if we were unlucky. And there was no guarantee our stakeout target was going to even show - usually, they just went around us completely and attacked headquarters anyway. And we would get blamed for not stopping them in time, of course. It wasn't exactly anyone's idea of fun.

And please, kids, ignore anything your grandparents told you. Screw their lies, screw their sugarcoats, stakeouts were a _popularity contest_.

If you were well-liked, had a half-decent personality, and weren’t a complete weirdo, you usually were not on the list of stakeout candidates. Regrettably, I was not exactly liked among the male population, I freely admit I had a reckless personality, and I was… okay, slightly weird. Naturally, I was almost a constant on the stakeout candidate list. And since some men (that I, admittedly, assaulted) pulled strings, I was always picked. And, to their dismay, I always lived.

I wasn’t the only person who constantly got sacked with stakeout duty. There were three other militia members that got chosen, one way or another, no matter the situation.

It would be easier to show you how despised we were than actually explain it to you.

Fast forward a few days into an ordinary stakeout mission, sometime in the year... 20X7, I think. It was the dead of night, so everyone was sleeping as if we were bodies in a graveyard. Chiaki, the girl who was _supposed_ to be keeping watch for enemy machines, was dead asleep as well. Her Gamegirl was brightly shining on her lap, the background music looping to the desolate earth. When you consider Chiaki's many flaws, it doesn't make sense that she wasn't be a constant stakeout pick; she slept all the time, spent _hours_ hacking down a single firewall, and was a pain to hold a conversation with. Fortunately for her, Chiaki was too adorable to put on death row, and she had the scariest woman in all of Hole 053 at her beck and call. Every time Mukuro reviewed the stakeout candidates to select a few poor souls to feed to Satan, you could bet that Izuru would be behind her, crossing out Chiaki's name in a red marker the first opportunity she gets. I would never say it to Izuru's face, but watching her being so possessive over Chiaki was cute. 

Unfortunately for everyone, Izuru was forcefully at the 'Annual Basewide Strategic Assembly' (otherwise known as, 'Miu Iruma's Birthday Extravaganza') while Mukuro was undergoing the victim selection process. This had the deadly side effect that Izuru couldn't alter the documents in time for Chikai to be booted off of stakeout duty - an opportunity Mukuro took full advantage of, putting stars and hearts all around Chiaki's name to cement her as a long-overdue member of the Sort-Of Satisfactory Stakeout Squad. Izuru got wind of Mukuro's actions mere minutes after they occurred, storming out of the party and into Mukuro's office, hands eager to impale themselves all over Mukuro's body. Since that was, er, very illegal, Izuru contented herself with strining together long-winded threats at our unimpressed General (for about ten minutes, mind you). The insult string got recorded on Miu's cell phone, and has found a treasured place in the records hall. Usually, whenever someone pisses Miu off, she sends the audio file to them (coded so the volume can only be all the way up) , which has gotten her put in court for disturbing the peace and destroying earlobes more than once.

Anyway, backpedaling to the stakeout, and every ire that came with it. With everyone in the camp fast asleep, it didn't take all too much for a random machine to waltz in - drawn by the tunes being spurt out of the Gamegirl - and start shooting up the place. Amazingly, there were zero causalities the entire time the massive thing annihilated our camp; it was definitely more concerned with destroying our property than actually hurting anyone, which I appreciated. If you ask me, the pilot of the machine has a staunch dislike of bloodshed, and only shot up buildings because he was mandated to; but if you ask him about it, he'll likely go on a rant about how he 'doesn't mind killing at all, and he'll kill your love life just to prove it'.

The Gunmen - that's what we called the machines, way back when - began some sort of convoluted missile strike, raining destruction onto all the many buildings in our stakeout camp. The missiles were mysteriously swerving out of the way when they got near a living being, but that may have just been my _imagination_. A stray missile shockingly managed to hit our strategist tent, sending it flickering ablaze within a single second. Before our army could start cheering for the death of the witch, the red-headed devil herself shuffled out of the burning tent and began to scrutinize the proprietor of her sleep’s doom. She seemed annoyed, if anything. Her magician’s cap was covering most of her face, and her cape was wrapped around her like a blanket (which it was probably being used as).

The cacophony of cheers quieted down after everyone realized she was alive. For contrast, me and Religious Hippie’s tears of despair slid into cheers of relief.

The Devil didn’t really care about the wild ride of emotions everyone was experiencing. She took some paperwork out of her cape’s pocket that was due last week and handed it off to Religious Hippie, who took it without a complaint. The Devil huffed and pointed her stubby finger at the Gunmen.

“Kill-” A loud yawn. "-him."

Everyone rolled their eyes at our commander’s grain of strategic wisdom. We followed it anyway.

In mere seconds, the once-quiet campground became an animalistic warzone. We had no semblance of order; we took out our guns, katanas, hammers, or whatever weapon we had and assaulted the Gunmen with no mercy. It was barely dented, but that didn't deter the militia at all.

And of course, the Sustained Stakeout Slot Shitheads were making their best effort to live another day and thus disappoint everyone back at HQ.

The Devil was far away from the Gunmen, reading orders into a megaphone while getting someone else to hold her papers. No points for guessing that she was Himiko Yumeno, one of our few strategists. And easily our most hated one, because she treated the militia as if we were maids to her every whim. Not the biggest mystery why she was a constant stakeout pick; most everyone in the militia was waiting for the day she died or got discharged so they could drink in celebration long into the night.

Unlike everyone, I was quite possibly Himiko’s biggest fan. I still am! Well, I mean, probably second biggest fan nowadays, one of my friends got the number one spot since they put a ring on it. But I wouldn’t mind dressing in a maid uniform for Himiko, even to this day. She’s so _cute_!

...Oh! Um, yes. Back on topic, the angel that was carrying a titanic steel hammer on her back and Himiko’s papers in her hands was Angie Yonaga, a frontliner, our diviner, and a major Religious Hippie. Speak of the devil, am I right? Not only was she an artist, she was a warrior, fortune teller, cult leader, and a great cook. Angie wandered in from Hole 666, which was located alllllll the way across the entire Japanese wastes, on some abandoned island off the east coast. Using 'the third eye of God', she found her way to our humble Hole after she was chased off of hers for 'practicing devil worship', and managed to worm her way into our militia ever since. Someone like her usually wouldn’t be thrown to the dogs for stakeout duty, but…

I heard myself yelp on instinct as an unaimed laser grazed my skin. I sent myself charging towards the power duo standing a ways from the Gunmen, yet still close enough I could easily make out their features in vivid detail. Angie seemed overtly cheerful, even if she was in the midst of a (bloodless) battleground.

“After this, Tenko, blood sacrifice-! Blood sacrifice-!” Angie cheered at me as I skidded under Himiko’s legs, the Gunmen's oncoming shot banging against the dirt ground. I widly shook my head as fast as I possibly could, and Angie pouted at my disappointing response.

Himiko, on the other hand, spared me a rare glance. “...you, get back to work, and stop slacking off.” Back then, I was pretty relieved she didn’t seem too fazed about my… compromising position, and more upset about my so-called laziness. That relief didn’t stop me from furiously blushing and making a mad dash towards the Gunmen, if only to get far away from the ball of adorableness that was Himiko Yumeno and the pile of unhinged violence that was Angie Yonaga.

Historians will look back on the history of Hole 053 and notice a spontaneous decline in religious belief. Thousands of teenagers will be forced to write essays theorizing the cause for this phenomenon. Researchers will get into dozens of arguments over the sudden wave of atheism. Little will they know, that it’s all thanks to one foreign girl trying to hammer a cult into the minds of the populace, and only serving to alienate them from any religion beyond belief.

Angie was my ‘friend-because-Himiko-liked-her’, don’t get me wrong, but god, was she creepy.

The last member of the Stakeout Shitheads was nonchalantly ramming bullets into the side of the Gunmen, not particularly caring if a stray shot got a little too close to one of the younger recruits. She wasn’t using a handgun or some type of rifle; Scene Phase wouldn’t let such dull weapons so much as grace her eyesight. No, Scene Phase’s signature gun was a double-barrel, whiplash-inducing, long-range shotgun (Yes, I am well aware that is an oxymoron, thank you). The shotgun was titanic; it was almost twice as big as Scene Phase herself. The reason she was so picked for stakeouts wasn’t really the fact that she was creepy, assaulted someone, or was a dick to everyone, it was beca-

“If you stare at me for another second, I will take this gun, shoot you in the head,” Scene Phase growled. “And when you pass on into the afterlife, you will live with the knowledge that a fifteen-year-old killed you and took away any future you could've ever had because you just couldn’t keep your eyes to yourself.”

Maki definitely wasn’t the most pleasant person, that's for sure.

I was friends with her when we were little kids - we were both orphans - but she was something _else_. She was rude, mean, and since she didn’t have any parents she could hate, she hated the world instead. I think the first mistake adults made in raising her was when someone accidentally left a book on existentialism in the Hole library, not bothering to return it to the adult section. Five-year-old Maki innocently discovered it during a library field trip, and by the age of five and one week, Maki morphed from a quiet five-year-old to a violently edgy teenage girl.

A decade has passed, and she’s still not out of her funk. I guess it truly wasn’t a phase, Not-Even-My-Mother.

The short, meek recruit that was once staring at Scene Phase in awe was now staring at her as if Scene Phase was the grim reaper herself. ...Which she may as well be, if Recruit stays rooted in the spot for any much longer. I can see Maki's finger yearning to reunite with the trigger of her shotgun, which is tearing at the sturdy walls of the Gunmen. The shotgun is practically begging for a target with thinner skin.

“I wasn’t staring at your gun because I wanted to steal it or anything, I swear,” Recruit said. “I just thought you were really cute, Maki, and… maybe after this, do you want to catch a movie or-”

“I don’t think she’s interested!” The Gunmen’s metallic voice echoed around the entire battlefield, and the battle momentarily paused - like time had stopped - and the world stared at the poor, poor recruit.

Recruit started to squirm where she stood, the stares of the army short-circuiting her identity.

“...Aoi, was it?” Maki said. “Why don’t you listen to the Gunmen, which is, of all people in this incredibly large stakeout camp, the voice of reason-”

“I’m telekinetic! I _know_ this stuff!”

“-and go hit on someone who’s in your league?”

I wonder how good it would feel if Maki got a shot in the mouth and could never speak again?

The recruit, otherwise known as Aoi, didn’t even flinch. Her face slid into one of determination, and she gave Maki an unexpected, smug smirk. “You know, Maki, you’re completely right. You’re in a league that’s so far below me that I shouldn’t even bother with you.”

Maki froze, finger stopping less than an inch from the trigger of her gun. Her outward appearance had morphed into something alien; she looked offended, almost defeated. It was as if she had turned into another human being, just like that day way back when when she walked into the orphanage, book in hand and and creases in her face. She had been reborn as something, those years ago; a demon of destruction, hatred, and teenage angst. In the present, it was as if an angel was bringing her back into the heaven to experience nirvana; to experience _humility_. It was certainly euphoric for me.

And it must have been eye-opening for everyone else, because wasteland drowned in the silence that followed. The sound of tumbleweeds was perhaps the only thing anyone heard for five seconds.

I want everyone here to listen closely to my coming words, because the events that followed were events that shaped the future of humanity itself. I'm not even being too dramatic, I have historians backing me up on that detail. After five seconds went and gone, the earth next to the Gunmen spontaneously shuddered and creaked, akin to the enemy Gunmen’s poor engine. Nobody knows why the events that followed happened, even to this day; the most common theory half-ironically thrown around is that the strength of Aoi’s burn was just too much for the planet to handle.

The earth randomly collapsed into itself, almost like a land-bound vortex attempting to eat everything in the vicinity. The screams were let out immediately, not only from the stakeout site, but also from within the hole. Well, _the_ Hole, because apparently there was a twisting underground catacomb one we didn’t know about here. The Gunmen shrieked like a little girl and made his overworked engine drag him to the other side of the stakeout camp, his goal of wiping us out (nonviolently!) fading to the wind. Maki, even now appalled at Aoi’s backbone, was rooted in her perch, halfheartedly pointing her gun at the newly-revealed Hole. She was far away from the crumbling ground, which was reassuring. There seemed to be nobody near the pit, except for some redheaded kid who was half-asleep, megaphone in hand and magic wand in the other.

Wait.

I launched myself towards the hole, faster than a bullet, and forcefully crashed head-first into the endangered Himiko. She hissed at the unwelcome contact, and I'd have to beg for forgiveness on my knees later. Yet, in the heat of the moment, I was just relieved I saved her from a terrible fate. She would huff that she could've handled it and I should be focused on something else, but that moment? I was flying through feelings of pure elation that, once again, I was her savior, her prince, her life-debtor, her future wif-

“Tenko, I could’ve handled that. You should be worried about _that_ if you want to worry about something half-important.”

She gestured to something close behind me, face scrunched up as the sun began to eat at her eyesight. I let out a rare giggle; she probably was pointing at the Gunmen, leg trapped in the vortex, crying for help, or one of Ryoma’s kitties that wandered onto a wayward piece of land and needed saving. Both of those happen often enough; Ryoma habitually brings cats to stakeouts (despite Mukuro regularly chastising him) and every last Gunmen pilot is an oblivious idiot, so them getting their leg stuck happens more often than you'd think. Usually, I just teared it off using my gauntlets, and then tore the pilot's body to dust when they had to dismount their grounded Gunmen. It was a favored hobby of mine.

Before I could turned around to grant Himiko her unspoken wish, I heard an “I’M SO SORRY!” and got slammed in the face by a metal cockpit.

My vision immediately blurred red as I was thrust far away from Himiko, catapulted halfway across the wastes to the streaking sun. Er, probably not that far, because Himiko uncharacteristically dashed over, in what I hoped to be concern (and it didn't take her all too long to reach me). Trailing her in her short pursuit of my maybe-corpse are two other people I had never seen before. My body locked up, refusing to move a muscle. The only thing I could do was look around the faint world and pray that my death was quick, and that Himiko was in vision as I slipped away into the afterlife.

The last thing I saw before I fell into unconsciousness was a small, black-haired boy kneeling over me, sweat trailing down his face and face flushed red. Himiko was crouched down next to him, muttering something soothing under her breath and waving her suddenly less pink magic wand. Next to Himiko was a shirtless, well-built, purple-haired man who was gazing at me as though-

“Wow, she’s hot!”

-as though he was asking for me to bury him into the depths of Earth where I would catapult him so far underground that no matter how deep humans dig we would never find him, and he would eventually suffocate from a lack of oxygen and he would suffer alone and unloved.

I passed out to pleasant daydreams of Purple Haired Ladykiller dying by my hand.

 

_***********_

_“The fuck is he?!” Miu shouts, looking out into the distance atop the bone structure of the Dai-Lagann. She’s been telling us it’ll be a few weeks, and then her new-and-improved battleship will be as ready to fly as it’ll ever be; I hope for her sake she’s right, because we’re sitting ducks for the Gunmen at this state. And… I don’t like being near the place where The Incident occurred. I don't think anyone likes it. I struggle to look up, grasping onto my headband for dear life as the wind threatens to take it captive._

_“I don’t know!” I shout over the chaotic wind - being 50 feet up in the air doesn't exactly have its benefits. “He said he just wanted to go investigate that light in the distance and he’ll be back!”_

_The wind’s picking up. I spot Miu flinching from the brutal windward attack on her hair, murmuring a sea of swears as her hair threatens to be torn into shreds. “He better hurry the fuck up!” Miu screams. “Or else I'll steal ALL of his portions at dinner! And it’s a fuckin’ good one today; Teruteru and Aoi are collaborating on donuts!”_

_Donuts always tend to lighten up the mood, so my smile doesn't feel as forced as usual as I put it on. “Hey, no way! I’m stealing them!” I shout back. “You’ll have to tear me away, kicking and screaming, from extras of Aoi-brand donuts!”_

_Even if bantering with Miu is fun - hell, even normal, I go back to my new pastime of looking across the empty expanse of the wasteland. Shuichi said he’s going down into the canyon in the distance, and he went on Rantarou’s motorbike, which is pretty good, so he should be back by now. But he's been gone for hours; did he just up and ditch us? I wouldn't blame him, but he should've at least taken me alo---_

_“Um, is it, like, normal for the canyon to explode?” Ibuki asks, jabbing her finger at the canyon, that was now half its size. A colossal fire somehow ignited on the collapsed side, and the smell of smoke reaches even here. The sound of screeching metal echoes from the distance._

_“No,” Mukuro says. She squints, examining the horizon. “It’s also not normal for Shuichi to be within hairs length of any girl that’s not Maki or Tenko.”_

_“Huh?” I say, momentarily forgetting to be offended. “He got a girlfriend?”_

_I peer down._

_Shuichi is dashing through the expanse of the wasteland on Rantarou's bike, the engines desperately boosting towards the Dai-Lagann in a frenzy. His hat’s gone; I'm assuming he lost it in whatever scuffle he had in the canyon. There's a Gunmen chasing them, which I would normally be worried about, but Miu just fixed the Dai-Lagann’s main cannon. No, I'm not interested in Shuichi’s well-being right now, which I never thought I would say in my life; most of my time with him and... everyone else has been spent_ keeping _Shuichi's well-being intact. Right now?_

_I’m really interested in is the other person rooted in the cockpit with Shuichi._

_She’s definitely around his age, and her hair is long, flowing blond. Her eyes are really… really blue, I could've gotten lost in them, in another life. She has hair clips that look like music notes, and she’s wearing some kind of colorful foreign dress. Gold bangles are clipped all over limbs, gems etched in all of them. She truly does look like a princess out of a storybook._

_Well, I mean, she’s not acting like one, considering how she’s grabbing Shuichi’s emergency pistol and frantically attempting to shoot the pursuing Gunmen down, but close enough._

_I open up my Ouma-Kokichi-brand cell and flip to my contacts. I click, and within the first ring, Maki picks up with a grunt._

_“Should I shoot?”_

_“Yeah. ...make it hurt.”_

_I note that Blondie has shifted her strategy to throwing shotputs at the Gunmen since the pistol’s not working (of course it wouldn’t, she was shooting the body armor, is she some kinda idiot?). She’s got some muscles to even manage to pick the shotputs up, in truth; even I struggle to pick them up. She doesn't look all too athletic, so her strength might just be in her blood._

_There’s a flare of green energy above me. A flash, a scream, and a pillar of spiral light cracks across the sky towards its target. Mukuro’s looking unusually impressed. Ibuki’s mouth is frothing in awe. Juzo’s in the corner blaming Hajime for somehow being responsible for the explosion, which is entertaining every time it happens. The Gunmen has collapsed into a pile of dust, and the Beastmen piloting it - another fucking bear splice - is running off, shouting something vaguely resembling 'mercy'. My teeth grind in on each other._

_I’ve heard of a crack shot, but that was just ridiculous._

_Shuichi is virtually frozen in shock - he looks almost catatonic as Amami's bike skids to a stop next to the Dai-Lagann. Even as he stumbles off the bike, he just blankly stares at the smoking cannon, his body completely asleep. Shuichi's legs aren’t working, but gratefully the blonde girl is keeping him upright, with almost no difficulty. Once they have both properly dismounted, me and Mukuro both jump down the Dai-Lagann to the soft sand below, our bodies effortlessly withstanding the fifty-feet impact. We dash up to Shuichi and the blond girl, weapons unsheathed - just in case she happens to be a threat. I'm vaguely impressed by her battle skills; if she has no training, just a few shooting lessons could set her on track to being a spectacular foot soldier. But right now, she's chattering happily away to Shuichi, seemingly unaware that he is in no proper state to respond._

_Still, it's better to be safe than sorry, I suppose. Even the kindest, sweetest strangers could stab you in the back if you weren't quite careful enough._

_“-and what an adventure!” Blondie sighs. “But, you were so reckless, and had no courage in yourself. You need to be more confident, Shuichi!”_

_“Um, hello?” I interrupt, throwing Blondie a cautious wave. “Who are you?”_

_“Ah!” Blondie says, poorly attempting to shift her body to face me. “You must be one of Shuichi’s friends. He told me about you! And... you’re just like me, too! No fur or scales, just skin!”_

_She holds out an immaculate hand. Shuichi slumps against her harder, and Blondie’s legs shake from the newfound pressure. Yet, she's still standing firmly upright, which is worthy of admiration._

_"Hello! I'm Kaede Akamatsu. I like pianos, and, er, books about pianos. At least, when I can find any. I’m the daughter of the beastmen's queen, which I believe makes me the princess. I'm so honored to me-”_

_I have to jump on Kaede to keep Mukuro’s bullet from hitting her._

_***********_


	2. The Neverending Dream [ 2 ]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenko meets the love of her life.  
>  _Mukuro is interrogated for her crimes._

When I gained consciousness, the first thought that flit through my head was that the sun was _really_ bright.

I heard a sigh. “No, sweetie, that’s a hospital light.”  
  
My second thought was something about how that made sense. Okay.

As hard as I tried, my eyes refused to open - likely wary they could get burned to death by a sun, or if the voice that was speaking to me was to be believed, a hospital light. “I’m just glad she’s only passed out - I swore to god she was comatose.”  
  
I mused on the fact that the metal wasn’t even that heavy, and it was more the intense momentum that caused me to be knocked out.

“I dunno! The metal weighed a ton, and that's not a lie. Like, i’m a beastmen, but even I needed help to drag it back to the camp,” The voice suddenly feels far more introspective. “I mean… I didn’t try, but i’m sure I couldn’t. Really, it’s a wonder you didn’t die or something! ...a real miracle.”

Before I could even come up with another half-delirious thought, I suddenly realized that I simultaneously had no idea and had the worst idea of who the two voices were. My eyes snapped open, and the world around me quickly flickered into focus.

The shoddy interior of HQ’s medical bay was still a little fuzzy, but it was distinct - after all, what other building has thousands of cat posters put up all around the walls as a kind of budget wallpaper?

“Yeah, those cat posters are _soooo_ cool! I’m thinking about stealing the idea - what do you think?”

I stopped admiring the cute Siamese kitty, wisely advising me to ‘hang in there!’, and shifted my eyes to the two strangers sharing my room space.

There was the purple-haired moron from the battle; he was wearing something that could be called a coat if you tilted your head and squinted, but really, it was just a bunch of rags horribly stitched together. He was wearing a t-shirt that’s so ripped up I could see his si- er, probably four pack. Not very impressive. He had a stubble, and had some kind of… katana sheathed on his belt. The sheath looked short, but for some reason, I got a feeling the sword’s a lot longer. Now, that’s almost impressive.

Confidently standing next to Problematic Hottie was some mental asylum inmate. He was wearing some type of straitjacket complete with a ratty cape and hat, subsequently making me wonder why he’s also decorated by an impressive array of hunting knives. Most worryingly of all his strange traits, there are cat ears spiking out of his hair, and a foreign insignia branded on his right thigh with ink (and also stitched on his straitjacket’s shoulder). It’s an insignia that could only be recognized by someone who spent an afternoon of her time reading an old, worn history book about the fall of mankind and the succeeding burial of society - and the burial was quite literal, mind you. Also quite literally, my mouth hung open, probably making me look like a moron. He giggled like he was just a kid - but beastmen live for so long, he was probably the oldest in the room by centuries.

Wait, hold it, was he the person piloting the Gunmen yesterday? In _that_ outfit?

A grunt from Problematic Hottie broke me out of my disbelieving stupor. “It’s a cool vibe, but I dunno; it doesn’t have enough badassery for my taste. Nobody looks at cats and says, ‘This reminds me of awesome things, like explosions and space! And explosions _in_ space!'.”  
  
Mental Patient giggled. “Oh, you’d be _surprised_.”

“Hold on! H-hold on! Who are you two?!” I said. I forced my depressed body to sit upright with... well, slight success is overplaying it. Mental Patient and Problematic Hottie stopped bickering and turned to face my bed-ridden self. “Why are you…? Where…?’  
  
“Remember? You got hit by Kaito yesterday. He punched you in the face so hard, you passed out!” Mental Patient placed his pointer finger on his chin, a mockery of someone deep in thought. “I was so worried that I called off the battle! I was piloting the flanking Gunmen, you see; I was totally panicked that you got put in a coma. I even reported Kaito to the authorities!”  
  
“No you didn’t, you ‘effin dick!” Proble- Kaito shouted. “Shuichi accidentally hit her with that shitty cockpit-”  
  
“The proper name for that cockpit is the Gurren, Spaceboy.”  
  
“-Gurren, whatever, and she passed out because of that! I carried her all the way back to headquarters, and I had to apologize to every figure of authority under the sun when I got there!” Kaito’s fist tightly clenched in on itself. I could see the grooves of his veins on the surface of his skin. “You just followed me the entire way back, hands behind your head like you’re five or something, spoutin’ shit about some chick called Mukuro the whole way back.”  
  
“Mukuro...?” I breathed. “Hold on… I-I know her. How do you…?”

Mental Patient shrugged. “The Princess General has gathered quite the reputation through our land not only for the number of our brethren she has slain, but also her cute freckles.”

I settled my head back down on the cushiony pillow, eyes not focusing on anything. My brain was functioning akin to a computer that got the motherboard shot out. My mouth slacked open, searching for words but finding none. Kaito noticed my expression and, but of course, reacted in a way only an idiot like him could.

“You not feelin’ okay? Need some love?” Kaito said. “I could give you some! Want a hug?!”

“No, it’s not-!” I closed my eyes and attempted to psyche myself down, with minimal success. At least I wasn’t breathing like I had an asthma attack, which was a plus. I gently moved my gaze towards Mental Patient, who’s still disgustingly cheery. “E-earlier. Earlier. Were you reading my mind or something?”

Mental Patient’s face suddenly went from ‘bubbly teenage preppie’ to ‘Kyoko when she doesn’t get her coffee’. “I’m telekinetic. All beastmen are.”

My heart was clenched with the worry that he found out I was attracted to that 'effing idiot in the jacket. I had known this (beast)man for all of a minute and I could already tell that he was a blabbermouth; he'd find a juicy secret and, instead of using it for blackmail, would spread it to everyone that he had ever known (and a few strangers for good measure). Then, when asked about why he ruined your reputation a month later, he would shrug and say something like "It was for the lulz, Tenko". You would tell him that joke was dead in the water and not funny, but he wouldn't care, because his taste is just that outdated.

Mental Patient noticed my mental adventure. He smirked.

“I'm joking, don’t get your panties in a twist! Kokichi Ouma just has reallllly good intuition.”

Thank Angie’s lord above; my sexuality was still undebatable. Well, for the time being, at least. I already began to prepare myself mentally for when a friend would come up to me in the hallway and tell me that I was so lucky to catch a boyfriend like Kaito - and then, once I violently probed them, they would admit - while writhing in pain - that Kokichi told everyone.

Kaito, obliviously, let out a huge huff of breath.  “Who refers to themselves in the damn third person? You can already read minds, you have cat ears, and you can pilot some robot… thing. Do you want everyone to think you’re weird?”

“I see,” Kokichi said. “Jealous of my psychic prowess? You want some of it? I can see you do!”  
  
“Your bullshit prowess, you mean, and no I am n- _don’t TOUCH me_!” Kaito shrieked. Kokichi pulled his hand away, badly holding in his chuckle. It wasn't like he was trying to hold it in, anyway.

“It’s okay, I don’t mean any harm,” Kokichi said. “You’re just super fun to mess with, you know?”  
  
I snorted out a laugh. Kaito shot me a quarter-intimidating glare, but he subconsciously seemed resigned to his designation as a moron and shrugged.

“E-eh… just not all that good with supernatural stuff, you know?” Kaito  said. “I-It’s just a little… um, out there. And not the _good_ out there, like space.” Kaito reached his hand out to me, which I examined cautiously. “Oh, uh, girlie, want a hand?”

“Tenko.” I said. “But, sure.”

I took his rough hand in mine as he helped me onto my own two feet; they shuddered from the newfound job of keeping me upright. I tried my best to not let my uneasiness show, and threw a thumbs-up at a Kaito who was still trying to probably feel me up. I ignored my thoughts that egged me to return the favor.

As my legs slowly became used to their old job, I heard the door creak as it slowly opened. In the doorway was the boy in the cockpit, and the most noticeable thing about him is how he’s a lot shorter than I thought. The second most noticeable thing was how he hunched his back and his eyes were refusing to make any eye contact whatsoever - he definitely seemed like a rather submissive character.

Subconsciously, any blame I had for him hitting me with the Gurren was shifted to Kaito. I ignore the boy in the door, who is trying not to draw attention to himself. I'll let him be ignored for a little while longer - that's what he wanted, i'm pretty sure.

“What’s your name? I mean, your _full_ name.” I said to Kaito, if only to add him to my hitlist. He clearly took it the wrong way, because he gave me a big grin.

“Kaito Momota! Famous in both space and on the Surface!”

“H-Hi, i’m Shuichi Saihara, it’s nice to me-”  
  
Kokichi immediately bubbled up. “No way! You’ve been to space?!”  
  
“Eh… no, not really.” Kaito said. It felt nice exposing him for the liar he is. “But! I will one day! That’s my dream! And when I die, i’ll be reborn as one of those glowy things in space!”

“Y-Y-You mean a s-”  
  
“You mean a star?” I said. Kaito nodded as I began to wonder if this man got an education or was kicked out of elementary school for perverseness.

“You know, you would die if you went up to space.” Kokichi said. “There’s no air, so you’d suffocate on your own spit! I don’t want that to happen to you, Kaito! After all, our friendship’s just started!”  
  
“And, I guess,” Kokichi said. “Your ‘friendship’ with Tenko is just starting. I don’t want to see it end, no siree!”

I was pretty certain that Kokichi was lying about not being psychic.

“I-It sounds like there were qu-”

“Yo, I could hear the quotation marks there. What’re you trying to say, twink?” Kaito said. I rolled my eyes. I was draped on Kaito like my limbs weren't working, and my hands  _definitely not_ touching his abs. It didn't take some type of... Ultimate Detective to figure out the implications.

“Nothing, nothing!” Kokichi said. “I was lying! You and Tenko won’t have a friendship, duh. You’ll have a romance! That’s the genre, between people like you! I'm sure people will be itching to get the next chapter of; 'Karate my Space'!”

"It's Aikido, you moronic twink!" I all but shout, more offended than I had ever been in my life."AI-KI-DO! It's NOT karate, and if you know anything about Aikido, you'll know that the two of them are completely different and it's RACIST to assume they are the sa-"  
  
“NO!”  
  
I shut my mouth. Me and the other two members of our mini-circlejerk turned around to see the submissive twink still standing there. He was suddenly looking a lot less submissive and a lot more like someone told him his girlfriend died of a tragic car accident.

...And the three of us were driving the car.

“Just because, er, that girl---”  
  
“Tenko.”  
  
“---Tenko, and Kaito are next to each other doesn’t necessarily mean they are romantically attracted to one another! A girl and a man can stand together, er, and even lay on one another and just be really close friends! They can coexist without sexual attraction! I-It's just sexist to assume otherwise, you know. And besides, romance is such a tired genre... every time I open up a mystery novel with a promising plot and they ruin it with romance, I get so _mad_! There are instances of romance working as an intelligent genre, but usually, it's fanservicey or self-fulfilling bad writing! Especially when they try to force romance that just doesn't work, or just cliché, and even moreso if it interferes with MY mysteries! I want dead bodies, not people kissing! And as with all romance, you know what's going to happen! If the girl doesn't like the guy at first, she'll eventually let him grow on her, even if he dies halfway into the story or something! Hell, maybe he's dead now! If you want a picture of murder mystery's future, imagine a kiss stamping on another human's face. Forever. J-Just... keep your romance out of _my_ mystery novels!"

It seemed like Shuichi himself wasn't talking there; it was another person, perhaps a woman (but who was to say that Shuichi wasn't a woman, with those legs?) talking half-ironically about her own gripes about the world. I got the really sudden feeling about how it was incredibly out of character, and also rather hypocritical. I wasn't a genius, but I could tell where this story was going - with my hands on his abs and hate spilling onto my brain. 

For some reason, I got really fired up. Specifically, I got fired to ignore every single romantic trope that had ever existed and - against all odds - not fall in love with my designated love interest that admittedly wasn't half bad. No. He was bad, he was horrible, he acted completely upon lust (unlike myself, the paragon of pureness). I was going to never accept him on a date, I was going to try to get him killed, I was going to reject him at every turn and, by the end of whatever story I was in, I wasn't going to get together with him in any romantic fashion. You know when the climax of a romantic movie is when the main characters say those three, _magical_ words? I was going to say them on a daily basis to him until they lost all meaning. I was going to save the _true_ magic behind those words for my very, very special witch. I wasn't going to be a damsel in distress, saved by Kaito while he piloted some grand robot; I was going to be on the front lines, saving him from dying a surely painful death myself just so I could torture him later. If/when Kaito died, I wasn't going to kiss him; but I would probably start crying because I am a very emotional person who doesn't like seeing death, even if it's against someone I hate. Every romantic trope that ever existed...

...I would murder as they _came,_ because I didn't want to do _that_.

Kaito didn't hear any of my thoughts (unlike Kokichi), though. He was just amazed that Shuichi had managed to say such things, with a passion that seemed rather... out of character, for one as wimpy as him. It was a gap, to see him go from a quivering shortie to a terrifying, offended monster. It really did seem like he was possessed. Nevertheless, Kaito was so proud I almost thought that Shuichi was Kaito's adopted, illegal son.

“Shuichi, bro.” Kaito said, looking at (Shuichi?) with wide, bright eyes. “That was a _gorgeous_ speech, fueled with willpower only a real man could get. You’re makin’ me proud, man...” There’s a sniff. “...I-I might even be crying at how much you’ve grown in the past ten minutes…”

“A-Aw, really? Thanks, Kaito…” Shuichi said. He’s blushing. “It means a lot to me, usually, you just say that i’m a wim---”  
  
“---but your speech was, in context, wrong! I think Tenko is hot as shit!” I’ve heard of digging yourself into a hole - we did it all the time, back in, er, the Hole - but this was next level. This was digging yourself to the core of the Surface level. “Speaking of, Tenko! Do you think i’m hot?”  
  
“I did, until your filthy male mouth opened.”  
  
“Great! I can’t speak if you kiss me right now! It’s a win-win for both of us!” Kaito said.

It sounded like Kokichi was having an aneurysm in the background, with how much the dick was laughing. Shuichi was blushing in both firsthand and secondhand embarassment - I concurred, since my face was red with the former of the two.

“Punching you in the mouth would also do that.” Is what my mind came up with.

“Oh _man_. I love strong women,” Kaito said. “But, if you don’t want to kiss me now, that’s okay. I’ll just win you over with my manly good looks and charming personality until you do!”  
  
“I-I’ll get a camera ready,” Kokichi said - in between bouts of uncontrolled laughter. “I want to take a picture of every time Kaito gets his heart completely, utterly _destroyed_!”

“I won’t! I bet i’ll win her over on the first date, dickhead!”  
  
“Implying you’ll manage to even take her on a date!”  
  
“You piece of-! Shuichi, hold Tenko while I kick his ass!” Kaito all but threw me into Shuichi’s arms, the romantic that he is. I was getting won over by the second. Shuichi, at least, was alright. He was actually trying to support me and my weak legs, rather than just letting me lay on him.

“Sorry, Tenko…” Shuichi said. He sounded like a girl. “Whenever Kaito gets riled up like this, he…”  
  
A window smashed from a misaimed punch - not a single thrown one has actually managed to hit Kokichi. It must’ve been the cat genes.

“I can tell.” I muttered. “So, how long do you think it’ll take for Kaito to get a new girl to annoy?”  
  
“Actually,” Shuichi said. “Kaito has never really gone after girls before. He thinks some are cute, don’t get me wrong, but has never been really infatuated. I think he’s… really into you. He just has a---”  
  
The mirror smashed, and so do seven years of luck.

“---weird way of showing it.”  
  
I grunted, and forcefully - but slowly - release my wrists from Shuichi’s killer grip. He still put a hand on my shoulder as I steadied myself. It felt like ages since I last stood up on my own two feet.

“Thanks,” I said. It was genuine, which left a bad taste in my mouth. “Hey, Shuichi, I got a question.”  
  
Kokichi got thrown out of the window. If Kaito’s screams of frustration were anything to go by, Kokichi landed on his own two feet.

“Huh?” Shuichi said. “What’s the question?”

“Are you a girl?”  
  
I was a little disappointed at Shuichi’s panicked denial of my question. I felt less disappointed when Kaito - in hot pursuit - threw himself out of the window.

I was even _giddy_ when I heard Kaito’s shout of pain, and the swears of regret that came afterward.

 

 _***********_  

 _“...run that by me again.” Kyoko says. The notepad in her hand is filled with scribbles, details, and useless observations, but the spot reserved for her conclusion is blank. I lean back in my chair. It reminds me of simpler times; me and Kaito, the two of us sitting down for another session with Kyoko, telling her that we really didn’t mean to let our guard down at the beach, honest!_  

 _...but, ever since The Incident, those times haven’t existed._  

 _You just have to take a single glance at the tattered remains of who once was a respected general turned murderous gunwoman._  

 _“I’ve been telling you over and over,” Mukuro says. “I made an attempt to murder that… thing, because it’s a beastmen. All beastmen must die, and she is no exception! I don’t know why we’re making them now, after one took the lives of all our best men.”_  
  
_“Mukuro, you are letting your grief cloud your judgement,” Kyoko says. That’s the only explanation we’ve been getting out of Mukuro the past hour. “Kokichi Ouma is also a beastmen who has allied himself with us, and yet, you have made no murder attempts on him. You have attempted to kill Kaede, and with a rage that… well, it took both Tenko and Maki to pin you down. You were clearly very razed up, were you not?”_  
_  
_ _“Of course I was, Kyoko! Think with your brain, not with this weak sympathy! That sympathy is what caused us to lose the lives of our best! Kaede is the daughter of their_ leader. _As the spawn of their queen, it has an undeniable amount of influence over beasts like-”_

 _I raise a hand to stop Mukuro, and snap my raised hand into an Aikido stance. “She’s not even a beastmen, she’s a human! And she’s only been anything but nice the few days she’s been with us! The fact that she has such wide influence over the beastmen is just great for us; we can use her as a willing bargaining chip, or she can talk the beastmen down for us.”_  

 _Mukuro grits her teeth. “Would you be defending it as hard if it really was a beastmen? The same who kill---”_  

 _My hands were aching for something soft to grip. “Don’t you DARE bring him into this! I’m not letting grief cloud my vision, so why are you letting it cloud you-”_  
_  
_ _“That’s_ enough _! Mukuro,_ please, hear me out!” 

_We stop our tearful yelling match and look at the figure in the door._

_Kaede is at the door of the interrogation room, dressed in less regal attire - she's donning one of Shuichi’s old underground uniforms that is far too tight on her. Her music note clips are still perfectly fixated in her hair, beckoning me to sigh in affection. I don't. Barely._

_She sighs, almost pityingly. “Mukuro, it’s been a while. A long decade… well, a little over fifteen years. Mom’s talked about you all the time, you know.” Kaede looks away. “We’ve all missed you a lot. Me especially. I actually didn’t leave of my own accord; Mom put me to sleep forcefully with an aphrodisiac, and then Shuchi woke me up. But, even so, I don’t want to go back. I like it here, in the few days i’ve been here. ”_  
_  
“You don’t want to go back to the beastmen…?” Mukuro says. “But… Junko, she…”_

_“I’ll follow you wherever, Aunt Mukuro.” Kaede smiles. “If you say the beastmen are bad, then I believe you. Mom’s gone mad since you’ve left… honestly, even if she didn’t drug me, I would’ve left of my own accord. She’s been getting more unhinged by the day, I swear - all she does is stayed locked up in the backroom, flipping through her cellphone. Almost all leadership duties are - were passed on Kokichi, who is… er, well.”_

_I notice Kaede playing with something in her hands. I can vaguely recognize it as a locket, but it seems almost otherworldly, even enclosed in her palm. I instinctively reach out to touch it - Mukuro flinches._  

 _“Oh,” Kaede says, looking down at the locket. It’s a darker black than I even realized, maybe even comparable to a void. There are glowing red indents striping the locket, truly making it seem alien beyond measure. “Mom gave me the locket a little bit after you left, Mukuro. She said that I should return it to you, or someone you trust, if I ever find my way to you. She said that you would hate her for doing it, but would thank her later.” Kaede pauses. “...thinking about it, she really did plan to boot me out of her castle in advance.”_  

 _“Kaede…”_  
  
_“Auntie Mukuro, I didn’t lie. I’ll follow you until the ends of the Surface, just please - please - save my mother from herself. Please. You know why.”_  
_  
Mukuro’s silent, but it isn’t her usual silence. It’s cold, thoughtful silence - as it should be, when presented with an ultimatum._

 _“Your mother is so far gone, Kaede…” Mukuro sighs. “...but i’ve made so many mistakes in my life. So many, the sixteen years i’ve been on this planet. I could try to fix at least one of them.”_  
  
_Kaede’s eyes dam the flood that is threatening to rush out. “Auntie Mukuro…! I knew you cared, I knew---”_  
_  
“Kaede…!”_

_The two of them lock in an embrace, that reminds me more of mother and child than aunt and niece. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something more than to be joined in that hug, right then and there. But I had no place in it; after all, Mukuro wasn’t my aunt, and Kaede wasn’t my niece._

_But they both felt like family. Which, was odd when it came to Kaede - i’ve known her for barely a few hours, and she came after the Incident, when I swore off love from therein. To even think that I felt some time of familial love for her already was breathtaking._  

 _As for Mukuro… well, she’s a mother hen to all of the Sustained Stakeout Slot Shitheads (but i’m her favorite since she hangs out with me a lot! ...it’s, er, not bragging. I don’t think so.), so she’s less surprising._  

_It’s bittersweet, which makes it even more heartbreaking to kill the moment._

_“Wait, If Junko and Kokichi aren’t leading the beastmen right now, who is?”_  
_  
Mukuro, Kyoko, and Kaede exchange worried glances. Kaede’s phone (tucked away in a side pocket on Shuichi’s pants) starts to ring madly, in an admittedly coincidental manner. It’s like Junko - or the beastmen, for that matter - could see through time itself to perfectly time that one phone call with our conversation, for maximum humor._

_Kaede turns on speaker, and answers before getting into some form of a ‘facial expression argument’ with Mukuro._

_“Hi! I hope this is working!” The voice that is coming out of the speaker is simultaneously cute, beastlike, hyper-masculine, and pure. “My name is Gonta Gokuhara! Since Kokichi Ouma decided to be a little… um… s-sorry, i’m going to have to skip this part of the script, Junko,” The sound of shuffled paper echoes from the phone. “...anyway, um, since Kokichi is out of commission and Junko is busy with other things, I am the temporary leader of the beastmen! She said I should call the Brigade so they have a fair fighting chance against someone as… aww, tough as me!”_  
_  
“This guy is adorable.” Kyoko mutters._

 _“I_ love _him.” Kaede endearingly says._

 _“Wait for it,” Mukuro grumbles. I send her a worried look, but the glare on her face is all that’s needed to shut me up._  

 _For a second._  

 _“Er, hi, Gonta?” I say into the phone. Mukuro starts to act like she’s my mother again - muttering discontent complaints under her breath, shooting glares at me like she shoots beastmen on the battlefield. It’s almost like one of our training sessions, except instead of bullets it’s disappointment. “Uh, thanks for calling! I’m Tenko---”_  
  
_“Hi, Tenko!”_  
  
_“---yeah, hi! So, um, anyway, we just got this girl on our Brigade. She’s really nice and not dead, unlik-- er, point is, she’s... still breathing. But she’s also saying she’s the princess of the beastmen---”_  
  
_“Which is true! Hi, Gonta!”_  
_  
“Kaede! No way! I was wondering where you went! I was so worried, you weren’t picking up any of my calls.”_  

 _“My phone actually got lost! My new number is---” I feel my face go slack, accepting the madness that is now my life. Kaede is furiously flipping through her phone like a madwoman, finally stopping after ten seconds of what looked like a murder attempt. “---052-553-7101.”_  
_  
“I wonder if that number would work if I entered it in now,” Kyoko says. Right as the words leave her, her phone immediately gets a call from Miu - otherwise known as S74P-M3T4G4M1G on everyone’s contacts. With a type of grudging acceptance, she excuses herself to the other room where she can have a yelling match in peace and quiet._

 _“That’s great! Gosh, we need to talk sometime. All of those gentlemen-gentlewoman lessons we had last week were so much fun, and just because you joined the Brigade doesn’t mean we can’t do them!”_  
_  
“Yes it does.” I say, but I have all but left the conversation by now._

_“I know! Maybe we can have minor ceasefires, where we try to make peace and the two of us can hang out!” Gonta says. “We’d have to keep it a secret from Junko, though. You now how mad your mom gets when we’re not geared up to kill as many humans as possible, 24/7…”_

_Kaede laughs at the morbid sentence. I like her surprising appreciation for dark humor. “Mom’s just crazy, Gonta. Maybe you can even join the Brigade during one of the crossfires, and_

_“Whatever,” I say. “We’ll squash you like a bug no matter what y-”_

_I hear Mukuro facepalm in the background, and Kaede let out a little gasp._

_“Squash… like… a bug?”_

_Gonta sounds like I just told him I killed his entire family._  

 _“You… Tenko.” He says. “Do you_ hate _bugs?”_  

 _I think Mukuro and Kaede are trying to tell me something with their facial expressions, but I ignore it._  

 _“You could say that, they’re all pretty icky and crawly. Actually, no, not all bugs, butterflies are actually really prett---”_  
  
_“YOU HATE BUGS?!”_

 _“N-No, she doesn’t!” Kaede jumps in, shooting me a glare that is almost (almost) as terrifying as the ones Mukuro gives me on a daily basis. They still look like ones a mother would give me. “She loves bugs, just like me!”_  
  
_“But I just heard her SAY she hates bugs!” Gonta says. “SHE HATES BUGS! DO ALL HUMANS HATE BUGS?!”_  
_  
“NO!” Mukuro shouts. “W-We all love bugs! Tenko’s just… an oddity! You know, it was her crush who went away in The Incident, so grief is clearly clouding her thoughts!”_

 _If I got out of this phone call alive, I was going to berate Mukuro for the hypocrisy of her statement for the next few years._  
_  
“But I thought Tenko was supposed to be nice… and isn’t Tenko one of the higher ranking members of the Brigade…?” Gonta says. It was at that moment that I realized I fucked up - I was the sole person who fucked up the bright future of humanity. I was the one who sent it into a downward spiral. “That means… that means you all hate bugs. That’s it! IF SOMEONE IN A POSITION OF POWER HATES BUGS, EVERYONE HATES BUGS! THAT’S JUST HOW IT IS! THAT’S HOW SOCIETY WORKS!”_

_I hear something whirring through the phone. It sounds like Gonta just picked up an entire Gunmen, which, judging by his voice, he could possibly do. Actually… on second thought, it sounds like a cannon is being readied. That’s even more worrying._

_I see Mukuro furiously texting someone in the background (why does she have her phone on her if she’s being interrogated?). She’s probably telling Miu to ready the shields - like that’ll do anything against the weapons the beastmen have probably been hiding from us._

_“KAEDE! I’M SORRY, BUT I’M GOING TO HAVE TO KILL EVERY HUMAN IN THAT BRIGADE FOR THEIR CRIMES AGAINST BUGKIND! ...but i’ll make sure to spare you, so we still have our tea parties, of course. Love you all, except the Brigade! See you later!”_  
_  
The line goes dead._

_I hear a nuke go off in the distance._

_“Tenko,” Mukuro says. “This is why Himiko is the strategist, and not you.”_  

_“Oh, shut up."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The singular excuse I have for this late update is that I was working on my DRV3 Chapter 4 transcript (link on my profile). Well, i’m taking a bit of a break now because I just got up to the body discovery, so I can finally update this while i’m bracing myself for the investigation sequence! Yayyy!
> 
> But, in the time it took for me to write this, I finally got the major plot twists down pat and took some criticism I got from a few people to make this make more sense (even though, sometimes, it’s not really supposed to). Some twists i’m really excited about, so stay tuned!
> 
> Any and all comments, be it hate, love, or my favorite - criticism - are welcomed with open arms!


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